


How they shine

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Last Drabble Writer Standing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: A collection of Dramione drabbles written for the Last Drabble Writer Standing. Various tropes, themes, and ratings.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 34
Kudos: 109





	1. Namesake

> Title: Namesake  
> Rating: G  
> Warnings: N/A

* * *

  
It began innocently enough.

A borrowed book. A cup of tea. A small touch here. A lingering gaze there. Several cross-Floo trips. Many nights of side-along Apparation.

Hermione thought it would never end.

She should have remembered that Draco always did manage to surprise her.

“I never meant to fall in love with you.”

The words echoed through her flat.

What an odd way to say _those_ words for the first time. Riveted to the spot, Hermione blinked and was unsure what to say. He seemed...dejected. Hopeless, even.

“I have certain...obligations,” he continued in her silence.

She raised her hand and cut him off with the chilliest of glares. “Obligations? Explain.”

His eyes tightened at the corners. “There’s an old tradition, dating back to my ancestors in Ancient Greece. Our mates—”

Hermione crossed her arms and arched a brow. “Mates? That’s disgusting.”

“Yes,” he continued roughly, “Mates are foretold in prophecy. They carry the mark of our namesake on their skin. It’s—powerful magic.”

Her eyes widened.

She knew Pureblood traditions were often mad, but she never thought they’d harness soulbond magic like creatures. It made sense as she turned the information over in her head: mark a witch or wizard and know without a doubt the coupling would produce powerful heirs. It was brilliant, though she hated to admit it.

“And you're only thinking of telling me this now?” Hermione’s gaze flitted over his face, noting the dusting of purple underneath his eyes. “You couldn't have mentioned this before—”

“Would it have mattered?” he chuckled darkly, shaking his head and causing his blond hair to fall into his eyes.

“Yes. We could have avoided this rather awkward conversation,” she clarified, reaching to the hem of her jumper and twisting herself so he could see the small of her back where a smattering of freckles painted the constellation _Draco_ on her skin.

“I should have known you were mine.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a—”

Draco scooped her up into his arms, planting kisses wherever he could reach until they finally landed on her lips, effectively shutting her up.


	2. Lionhearted

> Title: Lionhearted  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 400  
> Warnings: N/A

### Chapter Text

Many secrets were kept under the dome of a midnight sky. None were more important than the one Hermione must keep.

She weaved through the dying leaves and grass, ducking branches and tightening her cloak around her frame. The winds were chilly, the night filled with haunting sounds of deadly creatures, and the stench of war clung to every molecule in the air. Five years after the Fall of Hogwarts, and nothing had changed.

Hermione was going to fix that.

Ten paces ahead, in the middle of a clearing, a tall figure stood cloaked in darkness. His back was to her and for a moment, Hermione worried it wasn’t _him_. Gut clenching, a torrent of acid sloshing within it, she stepped towards him with her hand curled around her splintery wand.

“A lion sleeps in the heart of every brave man,” she whispered, body relaxing as he turned ever so slowly to face her.

Voice like glinting steel, he spoke their code phrase. “Let it loose and it will defend itself.”

With a sharp nod of her chin, she relaxed and pulled her hood down. “What news do you have for the Order?”

Sleek, platinum hair glinted beneath the hood of his cloak. He wore a familiar smirk high on one cheek. “What, Granger, no hello?”

She didn’t have time for his games. Time was precious, slipping through their fingers faster every day. “Hello, Malfoy,” Hermione said as she swallowed over a thick lump in her throat. “What news do you have?”

His graceful slope unnerved her, but Hermione straightened her shoulders as he came toe-to-toe with her. “The Dark Lord has let slip the location of his eighth horcrux. What do you know of Godric’s Hollow?”

A gasp tore from her, immediately followed by, “Of course! We wondered why he never paid tribute to Gryffindor. Harry’s convinced it was pride.”

“Another thing your precious Potter got wrong.” Draco’s slender fingers pressed into her hand and lingered for a long moment. When they pulled away, a small, jagged scrap of parchment was left in her palm. “The address, concealments, and item you’re looking for.”

“You’re absolutely certain?”

Something flickered through his eyes. “Certain enough to risk my life to bring that to you. Granger—”

“Victory first.” Taking a step back, she yanked her hood over her curls.

He regarded her for a moment, nodded, and disappeared with a loud crack.


	3. The Peacock Methodology

> Title: The Peacock Methodology  
>  Rating: T  
>  Word Count: 500  
>  Warnings: N/A

  


Draco wore his fanciest onyx and silver-stitched dress robes accented with expensive cufflinks. He meticulously arranged his platinum hair—parted to the left, fringe barely ghosting his perfectly shaped eyebrow. Donning an emerald signet ring with a silver dragon curling over the gem, he tightened his tie. His polished dragonhide boots clicked against the hardwood floor.

Even the enchanted mirror wolf-whistled as he strutted purposefully from his bedchamber towards the Floo.

The Ministry bustled with harried workers sprinting to their offices, but Draco couldn’t rush it. Couldn’t afford for it to go wrong. He took slow steps, eyes fixed on the lift and his mind focused on reaching the Department for Magical Creatures. It had taken him months to work up the courage; he’d savour every hint of surprise in her eyes, every subtle hitch of her breath.

Upon exiting the lift, he made a sharp right and then left before stepping through a set of double doors.

She sat with a rigid posture, unruly hair hanging over her shoulders as she pressed her nose against a long bit of parchment.

All the air left his lungs in one painful swoosh.

Fiddling with his cufflinks and straightening his silver tie, Draco approached her and placed a carefully crafted smirk on his lips. He cleared his throat and waited as she jumped and twisted to meet his eyes.

“Malfoy!” Her smile sent a zing up his spine. “What are you doing here?” Hermione lifted a single brow as her eyes flitted over his appearance, exactly as he’d hoped. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Draco puffed out his chest, sucked in his stomach, and squared his shoulders, smirk firmly in place. “Hermione, I’d like to court you.”

Her plump bottom lip fell free of its toothy confine. Then she did the one thing Draco hadn’t predicted in all his precise planning: she laughed. “I’m sorry, you’d like to _what_?”

Draco narrowed his eyes, his stomach clenching. Every article he’d read in _Wizard’s Health_ said witches couldn’t resist a direct, sharp-dressed, and handsome man. He should have known better than to take advice from that ridiculous article, ‘ _Woo Your Witch: The Peacock Methodology_ ’.

What a load of bollocks.

What had he been thinking, except that simply asking Granger to a nice meal was so plebeian, it was practically Weasley-esque. Evidently, peacocking didn’t work as a basis for effective wooing either.

Too much time had passed, so Draco did the only thing he could manage: he turned on his expensive dragonhide heels and stalked through the door towards the lift.

Just as his finger pressed the button for the atrium, a flushed face surrounded by bushy, chaotic curls sprinted around the corner. He pushed the button six times, begging for the doors to slam shut. They didn’t. Instead, she crowded his space, grinning at him.

“Going down?” he croaked, absolutely disarmed by her sparkling eyes.

She smirked. “If you play your cards right, Malfoy.”

Draco vowed to send _Wizard’s Health_ a massive gift basket.


	4. Argonauts Log

> Title: Argonauts Log  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A

  


**_Argonauts Log, Day 1825_ **

_Five years on this blasted ship and not once has a woman stolen aboard until now. She came like a tsunami, all chaos. There’s something in her eyes that ties my stomach into knots. The crew appears to love her, but I—am unsettled._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1827** _

_The woman is a menace, filling the minds of the crew with ridiculous notions. As if we’d sail for the continents when all we’ve lived for has been the sea. Can the continents sustain our wanderlust? Negative; their politics alone drive away the nomadic spirit we embrace. I don’t care how charming her smile is, she’ll walk the plank before I steer this vessel to a harbor._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1830** _

_The Pyxis is not equipped for battle, and yet it is unscathed after happening upon The Riddle. The crew celebrates with the woman tonight, but I have taken to my cabin with whisky and a book. She never should have witnessed the devastation of cannon fire, and yet the spark in her eyes as the skies lit up tells me, perhaps, she’s seen more than any man on this crew._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1845** _

_Is it possible to burn from the inside out? What is this feeling that roots itself in my heart? The woman—Hermione, such a lovely name—touched my hand and I vow to the gods I saw her soul in mine. I’m frightened. We’ll reach port in a fortnight. I can’t be rid of her fast enough._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1850** _

_Her lips are silken like the flesh of an apple. She’s magic, and I—I am desperate to know her secrets._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1855** _

_The Riddle closes in once more. Hermione has a plan. Her mind is a wonderful and terrifying place, and maybe with her help, the Pyxis and its crew will survive the oncoming storm. She seems certain about this fight, and I am certain about her._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1857** _

_They stole her from me, bound her in chains. She walked the plank pleading with my name on her lips. Oh, but has ‘Draco’ ever sounded so sweet? To hear her say it once more, in the throes of passion rather than fear… But it is not meant to be; my Hermione is gone from this world._

_**Argonauts Log, Day 1859** _

_My heart is crushed, unmendable. Port is foreign and yet the sea harbors such ill memories I dare not return. The crew leaves without me, and so my journal comes to its end._

* * *

She comes in the night, wrapped in sodden cloth. Her matted down ringlets fall into her gaunt face.

“You walked the plank.” He’s certain he’s seeing a ghost.

Reaching out, she cups his cheek. “And swam to shore.”

From within her drenched clothing, she pulls a worn leather journal bound by string and stamped with a compass.

“Take me back to sea, Captain.”

He swallows, wrapping his fingers around hers over the journal. “As you wish, Hermione.”


	5. Upon This Pyre

> Title: Upon This Pyre  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: Major Character Death

Draco was surrounded. Strangers chanted his name to a beat that would haunt him through eternity.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

She was nowhere to be seen, but then she’d always had a knack for hiding. He wondered if she chanted with them. He wouldn’t blame her—he’d ruined everything.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

The binds on his wrists cut off circulation. The pyre was too tall for any hope of escape. He gritted his teeth, struggling against the ropes.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

A rich, smoky odor wafted through the crowded courtyard. He stole a deep breath, eyes flickering through the faces shouting at him. No sign of her still.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

The Dark Lord approached, billowing black robes flowing though there was no breeze. Arms outstretched, a wicked smile contorted his snakelike face. He silenced the crowd with one hand gesture.

“My friends.” His voice was nothing more than a light caress. “It pains me to have one of our own standing trial today. Mister Malfoy chose to act against us—he would have us all slain in the name of that fool, Harry Potter.”

Jeers and hisses echoed around the courtyard. A rotted piece of fruit hit Draco square in the forehead. He cursed, struggling in his binds once more.

The Dark Lord settled the crowd. “My heart is heavy, my friends. Mister Malfoy was led astray and left us no choice but to serve him with the most severe punishment: death.”

They cheered at his death sentence.

“However, I am not a heartless wizard.” The Dark Lord faced him, lips twisted in a sinister grin. His scarlet eyes flashed with menacing glee. “I have a surprise for our former comrade! Bring her out, Dolohov!”

Blood drained from Draco’s face. Her screams resounded through the courtyard as she was dragged forward, unable to hold her footing. Her bare knees scraped against the cement ground as she tripped over her feet.

“Draco!”

Desperation flooded him. Grappling with the rope around his wrists, Draco twisted and turned, cursed and strained, trying to get to her. It was no use. He was stuck, eyes locked as Dolohov tied her to the pyre beside his.

“Hermione,” he whispered, agony lacing itself through every letter of her name. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Don’t.” Tears fell from her eyes, breaking his heart in two. “I love you, Draco.”

His words stuck in his throat. Acrid smoke crawled towards them, fire kindling the straw and wood at their feet.

He had so much to say, so much to apologize for. “I—”

The flames kissed her feet.

Her screams wrenched through him.

The crowd erupted in chaotic cheers

He fought harder.

The ropes wouldn’t give.

He was forced to watch, forced to listen to the way her desperate voice begged for mercy.

Flames crawled up his body.

Draco turned his vengeful gaze on The Dark Lord, swearing a silent vow.

He would die upon this pyre and rise like a phoenix to raze the world in her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following along this journey with me! I was eliminated this week and so ends the collection of drabbles. Much love to dreamsofdramione and Floorcoaster for putting on this event. Please support the remaining authors by checking out the drabbles they’re writing weekly. It’s such a wonderful comp with seriously talented writers. 😍
> 
> Link to LDWS collections: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneLDWS2020_R2_Constellations


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